Author's Note: I have no earthly idea what spurred me to write this (actually, I do; it's the same reason I wrote my other Emily-on-her-period fic, "That Time Again") but I am so glad the plot bunnies put the idea in my head. Because, in the middle of writing something depressing like "If That Mockingbird Don't Sing" and something stressfully-AU like "Kiss The Cook", I really needed a break. And I can only hope that you all will enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) Thank you in advance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.

"Oh, shit."

Emily ran a hand through her already tousled hair as she stared blankly at the empty drawer in her bathroom. This has got to be a joke, she thought, biting back a frustrated – and pained – moan. A sick, sick joke. I can't have run out; not now, of all times.

Oblivious to his master's troubles, Sergio ambled into the room and crawled between Emily's legs, purring contentedly.

Emily sighed as she knelt to pet the happy cat. "You know I love you, Serg, but I'd love you a hell of a lot more if you could drive down to CVS for me." Sergio meowed petulantly then licked at Emily's hand. "Why can't I go to CVS myself, you ask? Well, because Mommy's in a bit of a predicament, you see. A very…bloody predicament."

Once again, Sergio simply meowed.

It was when Emily was gazing into Sergio's handsome tawny eyes that an idea struck – an idea that involved her other boy-toy. Immediately, she picked up her phone, dialing his number from memory.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Hey…Aaron?" Emily used her sweetest, most seductive voice. "I know you're already on your way home…can you do me a favor, baby?"

Hotch grinned a little, his eyes bright. "When you use that tone of voice? Of course I can."

She flashed a victorious smile. "Mmmm, you're the best. I need you to stop by the nearest pharmacy and buy me a box of tampons."

In a beat, the grin had disappeared from Hotch's face. "You need me to what?"

"I need you to buy me tampons," she repeated, watching as Sergio jumped from one counter to the other.

Hotch grimaced. "Sweetheart, you know I hate –"

"Please?" Emily pouted, regardless of the fact that he couldn't see her. She bit her lip, then soothed it with her tongue. "I'll make sure to give you a little treat when you get home," she tossed appealingly.

Hotch had to physically bite back his moan. She had him there; already, he was picturing entering Emily's brownstone to the welcoming sight of her dressed in red lace. And she would be on her knees…

"Okay." Goodbye, man card. Hotch let out a reluctant sigh. "I'll do it."

Once again, Emily smiled gleefully. "Great. And while you're at it, could you get me a carton of ice cream?"

Hotch huffed. "What flavor?" he droned.

"Mint chocolate chip, please." She giggled as she pictured what he must have looked like at that moment; put-off and serious. "Thank you, Aaron."

"Mm-hmm."

And then, the line went dead.

Emily smirked a little, then lifted Sergio into her arms and scratched behind his small, soft ears. "Men. They're so easily bribed, aren't they?"

Sergio merely buried his face into Emily's chest, purring fervently all the while.

~.~.~

"Emily?"

She craned her neck to peer over the edge of the couch she was laying on. "Over here," she beckoned with a tired smile. Sergio rested on her belly, fast asleep.

"Hey," Hotch greeted, leaning over to press a slow, delicious kiss to Emily's lips. "How are you feeling?"

"Same as usual. Just waiting for the Advil to kick in." She nodded toward the bag in his hands. "Thank you."

"No problem." He chose to ignore the memory of the cashier look at him judgmentally. He could practically hear the man's internal monologue: Such a serious looking man dressed in a classy, tailored suit…and he's buying tampons and ice cream. Talk about whipped. "It was no problem at all."

Emily moved into a seating position, causing Sergio to hiss and leap off of her front. "Oh, someone's cranky," she cooed.

Hotch watched the cat warily before fishing through the shopping bag for the ice cream. "I'll put this in the freezer for later?"

"Please." Emily grabbed a tampon from the box and stood – a little too quickly. Immediately, she groaned as her abdominal muscles protested and as more blood began to rush downward. "Holy fuck," she bit out.

Hotch winced at the obvious discomfort written clearly across Emily's face. "Is it really that bad?"

Hotch regretted the words the moment they slipped past his lips. Already halfway to her bathroom, Emily froze in her tracks and turned to level an icy glare in his direction.

His eyes widened. "I didn't mean it that w –"

"'Is it really that bad?'" Emily repeated slowly. "Did you seriously just ask me that?"

Hotch gulped silently.

"No…" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "No, it's not bad at all. I just love bleeding from my vagina, don't you?"

"I –"

"Of course it's bad!" At Emily's raised voice, even Sergio darted out of the room. "How would you like it if you had to bleed from your penis for three to four days every month – or even five days, if Mother Nature is feeling particularly generous?"

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry –"

"How would you like it if you had debilitating cramps that make it impossible to do so much as breathe without doubling over in pain?" Emily was on a roll; she had no intention of stopping. "You don't have to deal with the cravings. You don't have to deal with the hot flashes, or the cold chills, or the mood swings. Oh, and let's not forget childbirth. Who has to go through labor for ten hours – or often, even more? Oh, that's right; women."

Hotch took a tentative step forward, reaching for Emily's hand. "You're right," he interjected hastily. "Men have no idea –"

"Damn right they don't!" Emily was fuming. "Men have nothing, absolutely nothing, to complain about."

That caught Hotch's attention. Biting his lip, he said defensively, "Well, actually…that's not completely true." His voice was deathly quiet; but Emily still heard him.

"Excuse me?" she asked lowly. "What do you have to worry about? Shaving your legs?" she asked mockingly. "No, wait; you don't have to worry about that, or about shaving your underarms, or about shaving your –"

"There are certain…inopportune things that can occur with a man's body," Hotch said, skirting around the topic almost embarrassedly.

Emily snorted. "Like?"

Hotch, unable to think of a gentlemanly way to explain, simply glanced downward pointedly.

Emily gazed at him intently, her eyes narrowed; and then, she burst out in unamused laughter. "Aaron," she crossed her arms over her chest, "are you really trying to argue that men have it bad because of untimely erections?"

"Well, when you put it that way –"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"It's uncontrollable!" Hotch snapped. "If you're horny, you're horny."

On any other day, Emily would have laughed at how absurd the comment sounded coming from Hotch's prudish mouth. On any other day, she may even have jumped his bones right then and there.

But instead, Emily moved so that she was but an inch away from him. "Oh, yeah? You think that's bad, huh? How about this: I'm always my horniest theday my period starts. And what can I do about it? Not a damn thing!"

Hotch shut his eyes and let out a conceding sigh. "Emily, sweetheart…"

"And now the ice cream is melted!" She groaned. "Aaron, I swear to God, if you even think you're getting your 'treat' tonight…" Again, she barked out a mirthless laugh. "I cannot even begin to tell you how wrong you are."

Fuck. "Emily –"

"In fact," she glanced over her shoulder as she retreated towards the bathroom, "you can forget about sex altogether. Have fun with those untimely erections of yours."

And without a word more, Emily slammed the door in his face.

~.~.~

Emily woke up the next day to the sight of roses; dozens and dozens and dozens of them, in different intricately carved vases and in every color imaginable. Try as she might to prevent it, a pretty smile curved her lips.

Oh, Aaron.

"What do you think, Sergy baby? Was I too hard on him?"

The cat, however, was once again fast asleep.

Fingering the delicate petals of a nearby rose as she gave their situation a second's more thought, Emily took in a deep breath. The action made the muscles around her abdomen scream out in protest, but it was worth it; the flowers' fragrance was incredible.

Pushing herself out of bed – and managing, this time, to not wake Sergio –, Emily strode barefoot into her living room, not surprised one bit when she saw Hotch, sitting patiently in one of the loveseats, his head in his hands.

"Good morning."

His head snapped up unexpectedly, his eyes glazing over slightly as he drank in the sight of Emily dressed solely in a nude bra and her pale pink sleeping shorts.

His favorite.

"Good morning," he returned, after realizing that he had been dumbly silent for much too long. "Listen, about yesterday –"

But Emily cut him off with a hand to his lips. In one swift move, she was straddling him fully, her mile long legs wrapped comfortably around his waist. "We can talk about that later, can't we?" she murmured, her lips dangerously close to his. "Right now, I just want to thank you for the roses."

Hotch smiled as he nuzzled her neck. "You like them?"

"Very much so." Behind them, Sergio crept along the sides of the walls, annoyed at having been awaken by the lovers' voices. "Especially the –"

"– the lavender ones?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I knew it." And then, as Emily's lips met his in a dizzying, hard kiss, only one thought remained on Hotch's mind.

You see, Sergio? Women are so easily bribed, aren't they?

THE END.

Author's Note: Reviews are love. Please tell me what you think! There's nothing I love more than hearing from you guys, so please don't be shy. No account needed!